


honey whiskey

by jinhoes



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: College AU, M/M, i had a totally different vision with this than how it turned out lmao, jinho is an anxious student au, roommates au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 07:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12790029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinhoes/pseuds/jinhoes
Summary: It’s the second day of Jo Jinho’s occupation of their dorm’s couch and table, when Hyojong starts to feel a little concerned.





	honey whiskey

It’s the second day of Jo Jinho’s occupation of their dorm’s couch and table, when Hyojong starts to feel a little concerned.

 

Jinho is wearing pajama pants and a loose, plain colored t-shirt that hangs off his shoulders, along with a look of concentration. The certified  _ Jinho-concentration-face _ involves a few very prominent traits: a furrowed brow-turned-unibrow, lips slightly pushed out open, nose just barely scrunched, and eyes wider than should be reasonably possible to maintain for an extended period of time. It’s an expression Hyojong has become familiar with over the last semester he’s spent getting to know his roommate, but it’s not one he’s accustomed to seeing for days at a time. Typically, the appearance of it only lasts the night before a particularly difficult test, because Jinho is smart and studies throughout the week rather than directly before examination, as Hyojong himself is, unfortunately, prone to doing.

 

But finals are only a week away, and if Hyojong has learned anything about Jinho since they both switched roommates at the start of the year, it's that this is exactly the sort of thing he would wring himself out over.

 

“Hey,” says Hyojong, finally, making his presence known from the doorway he's been standing in for a good few minutes. Jinho doesn't react, scribbling something down on a page in his notebook in lieu of a response. Hyojong rolls his eyes, stepping inside the room and slamming the door behind him with more force than necessary.

 

That does the trick- Jinho flinches and flicks his eyes up, relaxing as he recognizes Hyojong’s face. It’s been only about twenty-four hours, but Hyojong swears he can see an increase in the depth of the bags under Jinho’s eyes.

 

“Oh,” says Jinho dumbly. “Welcome back. Did you bring food?”

 

“Is that all you like me for?” Hyojong snorts, dumping his backpack and jacket onto his desk, and the bag in his hand to the kitchen counter. Jinho grins toothily. “Ass. No, I didn't bring you food. When was the last time you ate, anyway?”

 

“Hongseok stopped by at noon and forced a cookie down my throat,” Jinho hums, making a face.

 

“I meant a meal.” When Jinho takes too long to think that over, Hyojong sighs exaggeratedly, shrugging his jacket back onto his shoulders. “I only bought some ramen for the week, come on.”

 

“I can’t go out to eat,” Jinho says stubbornly, tapping the eraser of his pencil onto the open textbook before him. “My immunology final is in less than a week, and I'm only halfway through my notes-”

 

“Great, you’re halfway through,” Hyojong says dismissively. “Let’s celebrate. I’ll buy you food.” Jinho opens his mouth to protest, but Hyojong won't let him. “Besides, you need food to keep your brain functioning to remember all this shit.”

 

Jinho looks vaguely annoyed. “Hyojong.”

 

“Jinho,” Hyojong responds pleasantly. “Besides, sitting on the couch in pajamas for hours can't be that good for your thought process.”

 

Jinho stares at him a few seconds longer, and then groans and ran his hand through his slightly messy hair, which parts around the movement as though it’s one the strands are very accustomed to. “Just... I have to shower-”

 

“Shower when we get back,” Hyojong says as he tosses one of Jinho’s big sweatshirts in his roommate’s direction. “It might rain later, so it's a safer bet.”

 

Jinho’s eyes narrow suspiciously, but it’s growing clear that his stubbornness is fading. “... Nowhere expensive.”

 

“Fried chicken?” Hyojong asks casually, and can’t hold back a smile when Jinho lets loose one of his own.

 

“Yeah. Sure.  _ Fine _ . I’ll change and then we’ll go, brat.”

 

Hyojong waves off Jinho’s words with his hand and ducks the eraser that sails at his head in response.

 

\---

 

The next morning, Hyojong groans and slaps his pillow over his head to block out the sound of movement and clicking from the middle of the room. “Did you go to sleep last night?” he asks, tone groggy. “All I heard was the sound of your keyboard.”

 

When he isn’t given a response, Hyojong sighs and peels his eyes out from under the pillow to look to the direction of the sound. Jinho is hunched over his laptop with headphones in and a blanket across his back, the coffee table before him littered with notebooks, textbooks, papers, and at  _ least _ four cups of instant ramen. It’s enough of a sight to make Hyojong almost feel guilty for complaining.

 

“Hey,” Hyojong calls out a little louder. Again, he’s given no acknowledgment. He scowls, lifts the pillow off of himself, and tosses it in Jinho’s direction. It nails his roommate in the side and makes him jump, whipping around to stare at Hyojong in annoyance.

 

“What?” Jinho asks, rubbing at his eyes and throwing the pillow right back at Hyojong. It falls short and lands on the ground beside Hyojong’s bed.

 

“I asked if you went to sleep last night,” Hyojong repeats, eyeing Jinho’s state. He feels tired just looking at him, though he also feels tired on account of Jinho’s typing rousing him from sleep too early.

 

Jinho bites his lip, glancing at the numerals on Hyojong’s alarm clock. “I got like- a good hour and a half in before I woke up again.”

 

Hyojong blinks at him, unimpressed. “Dude.”

 

“I can sleep when I pass,” says Jinho simply, turning away from Hyojong again to shuffle through his notes, but to Hyojong it looks like he’s just flipping through pages, gaze not really connecting with anything.

 

“Pass away?” Hyojong asks blandly. Jinho snorts and rolls his eyes.

 

“You’re dramatic.”

 

“You have great grades, you studying like this is dramatic,” Hyojong shoots back. Jinho shrugs, noncommittal. “The ramen salt is going to dehydrate your brain.”

 

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Hyojong,” Jinho responds, but Hyojong thinks he sees a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of Jinho’s lips. Jinho has nice lips, he thinks, when they aren’t so bitten and chapped.

 

“When’s your first class today?” Hyojong asks, leaning his chin off the edge of the mattress like that would somehow make Jinho take him more seriously. Jinho doesn’t even glance his way.

 

“Three.”

 

“You have, like, seven hours to sleep.” Hyojong sits up at last, blanket pooled around his waist as he blinks the black spots out of his vision. Jinho glances at him, and then stares back down at his notes. “Dude. You’re gonna get sick, and then you’re gonna be too sick to study. And then you’re going to puke all over your final exam, and it’s going to suck.”

 

“Thanks,” says Jinho dryly. Hyojong rolls his eyes, refraining from throwing a pillow at Jinho yet again.

 

“No. Bed time.”

 

“Hyojong,” Jinho says, fixing Hyojong with a stern stare. “I’ll sleep tonight.”

 

“No, you won’t,” Hyojong says with confidence. “You’ll come home from class and eat more ramen and drink more instant coffee, and pass out in front of an electric screen for the fourth night in a row.” He can see the way that Jinho hesitates, the way that his hand stops pretending to write notes on paper, as he has been ever since Hyojong started talking to him. Hyojong gives Jinho his best puppy dog pout, because if there’s one thing he knows, he knows that Jinho is  _ weak _ for it. “Hyung, ple-”

 

“Fine,” Jinho groans, throwing himself against the back cushion of the couch and glaring at Hyojong. “Fine, whatever! Goodnight, Hyojong.”

 

“Goodnight, Jinho,” Hyojong says, unable to hide the smile on his face as Jinho hauls himself up and to the bathroom, presumably to brush his teeth and get ready to sleep. The sun is peeking through the curtains, but Hyojong draws them even tighter, and turns off the lamp on the table in front of the couch, too.

 

He’s lying back in bed to get a few extra hours in, too, when Jinho walks out of the bathroom at last and makes his way to his own bed. Even the way he walks, heavy and slumped, looks tired. Hyojong knows he made the right choice by pushing.

 

“Goodnight, Jinho,” he repeats softly. Jinho, already asleep, doesn’t respond.

 

\---

 

Hyojong is sitting on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, watching netflix on his laptop, when Jinho bursts in the door later that night with a bundle of notecards in one hand and a pile of wrinkled papers in the other. Ignoring Hyojong’s curious look, he strides straight to the couch and sits across from him, thrusting both handfuls in his roommate’s direction.

 

“Quiz me,” Jinho says, looking determined and ready, as if this is a business meeting.

 

“Welcome home,” Hyojong says, bemused, and Jinho rolls his eyes as he pushes the papers against Hyojong’s chest.

 

“Please, Hyojong? I don’t want to leave the dorm and beg Hongseok to quiz me.”

 

“Why not ask Hwitaek?” Hyojong asks, though he’s mostly just being stubborn to be stubborn. Jinho gives him a pointed look and Hyojong understands, sheepish. If Jinho is like this during finals, he’s sure Hwitaek is ridiculously worse. When Jinho continues to stare at him, Hyojong purses his lips for a moment and then, finally, takes them in hand.

 

“Okay,” Hyojong says, setting his hot chocolate on the table and pausing the episode of his show, leaning back. He has a feeling he’s going to be here a while.

 

And it turns out he’s right, when three hours later, throat dry from constant use, Jinho makes an irritated sound and drops his head harshly against the back cushion. “This is the  _ third time _ I’ve gotten that one wrong, Jong-ah, I’m doomed.”

 

Hyojong gives Jinho a quick look over and then snorts, setting the papers and note cards aside to stand, taking his long-cold hot chocolate with him. “I’m going to heat up some soup, and we can take a break, alright?” He’s starting to feel a bit concerned about Jinho, who’d spent a lot of the session sniffling and coughing. Not to say that Hyojong had told him so, but. Well.

 

Jinho nods, folding his arms over his chest and slouching low with an expression on his face that looks awfully close to a pout. It brings some of Hyojong’s mood into a lighter range, and he smiles at himself as he goes into the kitchen and starts up the stove.

 

They eat, watching the show Hyojong had been watching before Jinho had barged in as they do. Hyojong sees Jinho blinking his eyes open as he takes his bowl from him to bring it back to the kitchen, and gives him a once over.

 

“Do you want to call it a night?” he asks, and Jinho sniffles obnoxiously. Hyojong silently hands him the toilet paper roll that they’ve been using as a makeshift tissue box, and Jinho takes it.

 

“No,” he says simply, tearing off a piece and folding it with his fingers. “Not until I actually improve.”

 

Hyojong doesn’t find that likely, given Jinho’s slowly declining condition and awakeness, but he doesn’t argue this time.

 

Yet, it’s barely an hour later that Jinho is leaning against the arm of the couch, neck twisted awkwardly, having fallen asleep in the middle of Hyojong reading the next question from an old note sheet and, honestly, thank _ god _ , because Hyojong has been having more and more issues with pronouncing the complicated words within it. He stays still for a second, watching Jinho breathe slowly out his mouth because his nose is too clogged to allow him to breathe that way.

 

He drapes one of his old blankets from home over Jinho’s sleeping form and turns off the lights, hoping that maybe, Jinho might sleep through the night.

 

\---

 

Final exams take two weeks, during which time both Jinho and Hyojong are frazzled and living on a few nights of sleep a night and shots of espresso, obtained through where Shinwon worked the student cafe in the lounge every morning. Shinwon comments on their appearances in a teasing, but not unkind way- his drama student ass claims that he’s coasting through college and exams without a hitch.

 

“Congratu-fucking-lations,” Hyojong murmurs to Jinho as they sit down to get a few last minute study questions in, and a smile breaks through Jinho’s features.

 

But now, Jinho is walking in the door just after his last final and Hyojong is grinning at him as he does, coat slung over his shoulders. Jinho grins back, looking a little less weighed down.

 

“Going somewhere?” he asks, glancing Hyojong over, and Hyojong shrugs even as he grins wider.

 

“So are you,” he says, taking Jinho’s wrist and turning him directly back out the doorway before the guy hardly even has a chance to step inside. Jinho seems confused, and a little amused, but not upset, so Hyojong figures that it’s no big deal.

 

And that’s how they end up eating frozen yogurt for dinner, sitting at a table at the side of the restaurant with bowls piled high with toppings and yogurt. Hyojong thinks that it’s nice to see Jinho relaxed again, much easier on the eyes and much less worrying for his own self.

 

“How do you think you did?” he asks, and Jinho shrugs.

 

“The online exams, I already know my score on,” he says, eyes flicking up to Hyojong as he shovels a mouthful of yogurt in his face. “I passed those,” he adds, voice muffled by food and the hand concealing his chewing mouth. “So. I hope the other ones went well too.”

 

“I’m sure you did fine,” Hyojong insists, and the way that Jinho smiles at him, thankful, is dazzling in an annoyingly corny way. He smiles back.

 

They sit like that for a bit, finishing their yogurt and making small talk and little jokes that leave them both feeling light spirited, even as the tiredness weighs down on them. After Hyojong and Jinho throw their bowls away and step outside, Jinho suddenly takes Hyojong’s hand and squeezes it. 

 

“Thanks,” he says, voice a little mumbly and cheeks red with embarrassment. Hyojong watches him, and plays dumb.

 

“Thanks for what?”

 

Jinho splutters. “Th-thanks for… for putting up with me, and helping me. I did better, because of you. Probably.”

 

Hyojong snorts, putting a hand over his heart. “You really know how to make a guy feel special, Jo Jinho,” he says, and then laughs freely when Jinho smacks his arm.

 

“Shut up,” he says, flush but unable to hide the grin of his own.

 

If Jinho and Hyojong don’t let go of their hands for the walk home, that’s their own business.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter! @vocalistjinho
> 
> im sorry for posting this without editing but my impulsive brain commands me, i'll edit in the next few days!


End file.
